They say it is a thin line between love and hate, and this is perhaps never so more true than my relationship with Starbucks.  On the one hand, I do appreciate that I can order a “grande extra wet non-fat cappuccino” in any city in the world, and my coffee drink comes to me exactly the same every time!   Better than a burger from the golden-arches.  But on the other hand, I am repulsed when I see person after person go to Starbucks and order a “venti caramel frapacinno with extra whip.”  I see that and think:  My Lord, if you wanted a frickin’ milk-shake, why did you not take your fat ass to Dairy Queen!

I have been around long enough, and drinking coffee long enough, to remember how much I appreciated the site of a lone Starbucks, back in the day.  Almost made me feel connected to Seattle, in some post-grunge sort of way.   Now I stand on a corner, in town, and see the proverbial Starbucks across the street from another Starbucks, and it is really getting to be too much. 

 And then there are those milkshakes…